Eat, two conversations

To vacate one’s space for another,
un-employ oneself,
in hope of a future becoming.
As empty are the floorboards,
appreciated through wither.

The Body Republic

By the sharpened weeds
the lake
It’s shimmer shivering
as a wrapper around melted sand-beds
Proposing a poverty –
Unbearable,
the climax of a divine beauty
folding in one’s soiled palm

Sow

Toothpaste propaganda
Renegade Faust
I open my eyes to you
hoping for a just that is too much
Much muchness Mrs Madame
you are very well for the ill!
Plastic Napoleon
you kill me

Try

Afternoon shower,
to the day gently –
The door left open behind

Office

Festooned private eyes,
Your mother’s contemporaries
Watching you slowly
bye
Where she was and should have been

E

Recline backwards,
From your failings
Terrible things occurring

I

By your pram
The down-low walk
Against, upstream

Fruit

A mandarin now,
The days are peeled;
A lesser sadness surely felt

Women and kids do walk

The small births of summer colour,
how they do walk in fits and starts,
complicating your destination agenda.
Worded pleas: failed propaganda.
You sit with them by the blasted rocks.
Paved lake, pathway,
feet crooking over two surfaces.
The pale grass folds back
small bodies do collapse on to,
against a lilting breeze.
A hand is held. A spotted cheek is scratched
red sowed for your caress,
the small births of summer

Hat in hand

Hopeful doorbell
rings of a vacant room
On the wall beyond